Eff You Lyme, I Win!

Also posted in my blog. I know it's against the rules, but it's my success and I don't want to lose it later.

Yesterday I FINALLY wrote my success story.

Well...here's Part 2 of my success. Because it smacked me in the face this morning at the gym (in an AMAZING way!!).

I don't have a lot of tolerance for people who say "I can't". I try to help anyone who comes to me with their medical issues and weight loss questions, but I'm the first one to turn away when they *swear* to me, "I can't because...".

Maybe that's wrong. But I'm a shining example of "I can...because I will." Tell me you want to work past issues and I'll help you all day long. Tell me you want to succumb to those issues and I know you're just not ready.

Just like I wasn't...

#EffYouLymeIWin

My friends on MFP and on FB are quite used to seeing me end a post with this. Generally it means I've done something I didn't think I was going to be able to do, but I don't think most people realize how much that hashtag means to me.

I used to be healthy. Up until I was 23 years old I was one of those people that thought the world was over if I had a cold. Now, most days, I'd give anything to know it was like to ONLY have a cold.

It started that summer that I was 23. I had just gotten back from spending a weekend at the shore with my friends (for those not from Jersey...that would be the Jersey shore...lol). I was working at a TGI Fridays part time for extra cash and I remember my jeans were rubbing this spot on the back of my knee that was so painful I wanted to scream. Because of where it was I couldn't see it myself, so I called my friend and asked her to meet me back at my apartment so she could tell me what the heck I'd done to myself. She said it looked like some kind of bite. The next day I tried to show it to my dad and he told me "Ignore it. It'll go away." (Family motto. lol) It wasn't getting any better and my doctor was out of town, so I went to a Doc-In-The-Box (which is what we used to call Urgent Care lol). The doctor there told me it was a spider bite and gave me a week of antibiotics. The rash went away.

Cool. Done. Right?

Nope. Now we're two months later. I had noticed the outline of the rash had come back, but it wasn't painful anymore so I didn't think much of it. I went to MY doctor because I had been tired, achy and just kinda miserable for awhile...I thought I had Mono. She agreed that it sounded like Mono and was JUST about to run the test when I pointed out the back of my leg and said, "Oh btw...WHAT IS THIS?!"

"Oh. You don't have Mono. You have Lyme Disease."

The look on her face...I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. I called my dad, who was out of town for the summer, and he told me to get to a specialist immediately and he's worry about how we were going to pay for it.

I started the antibiotics that my doctor gave me, but I couldn't hold them down. I made it to a specialist right at the same time that I lost the use of the left side of my face...Bells Palsy...the first sign that things have gone too far.

The specialist told me that we hadn't caught it fast enough (stupid spider bite diagnosis) and since I couldn't hold down the antibiotics, I was going to have to have a picc line to do oral antibiotics at home.

Everything went so fast from there. My life was a blurr of IV lines, medical deliveries, pain, MORE bad news from doctors (it's chronic now, the antibiotics have ruined your gallbladder so that has to come out now, you have brain damage from the swelling in the brain, you have nerve damage...the list just kept going on and on).

At first I fought it. I was 23! I did my IV drips while I got pretty to go to the bar. I wrapped up my picc line and went out and made jokes about what was wrong with my arm. I asked my doctor if I could do shots of vodka into the picc line to avoid drinking too much (Shush...I was kidding...lol).

I think when I finally lost hope was when I was 24...I thought I'd been doing everything right but I couldn't keep it up...I had to quit my second job, I had to give up my apartment and move home, I had to go on disability from my main job. I think that was when I really started to give up.

I let the pain take over. I couldn't beat it anyway.

I let the fatigue take over. I simply didn't have the energy.

Over the next 7 years it went in waves.

I would feel fine. I'd try to push. I'd collapse. I'd suddenly have a day where I could do nothing but sleep for 20 hours. My migraines caused a stroke causing further nerve damage.

Basically, I gave up. I kept gaining more and more weight. I was more and more miserable.

Sometimes I would have enough and say, "No! I'm not going to let it win!" and I'd try something drastic like, "Hey! I think I'll train for a 5k!" My doctor LOVED that when I had to go admit that that's what I was doing when my leg gave out again.

All the doctors agreed that the only safe exercise for me was light walking. That I would NEVER be able to do more than that.

I don't say this so anyone will feel sorry for me. It's just background on why I push so hard today.

Because I finally fought back and I did it SMART (usually lol).

I started losing weight. I started lifting light.

The doctors (cautiously) said, "Good for you! But you're always going to be weaker on one side...that side CAN'T get stronger. The nerves don't work so the muscles can't grow."

I had a trainer who helped me my researching the best way to train stroke victims. I lifted heavier on one side than the other. I wore an ankle weight on one side during cardio.

I crashed. I had to stay out of the gym.

I went back. I tried again. Less cardio. I kept losing, I kept gaining muscle.

I crashed again.

You see the pattern. It's never been an "OK, I'm all better now!" moment.

There are days that I can't go to the gym.

There are days that I can't go run.

There are weeks where I HAVE to let my body recuperate.

There are days that I PR.

There are days that I hike for hours on end.

There are weeks that I'm unstoppable.

I'm finally learning that that's ok.

Last week I didn't go to the gym at all. Not because I crashed...but because I recognized the signs that I would if I didn't take a break.

Today I ran 2 miles. It's the best I can do. It may be the best I can do for awhile. Baby steps. I can run. The doctors were wrong.

Today I hit the PR I've been waiting for. I'm finally squatting my own body weight. 125 pounds...without a Smith Machine. HUGE step. I'm still weaker on my left side...but I HAVE gotten stronger. The doctors were wrong.

In 11 days I'm running my first obstacle race. The Savage Race. MONSTER step. I may very well find that there are things I can't do. But whatever happens, I will end that race doing things that I haven't dreamed of being able to do since I was 23 years old.

That's my biggest success.